Reasons
by Pipsqueak Ninja
Summary: There's a reason for everything, right? Just what reason is there for senseless loss of life? No matter what, though, the other countries will be there for America. 9/11 tribute.


**Summary: There's a reason for everything, right? Just what reason is there for senseless loss of life? No matter what, though, the other countries will be there for America.  
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**Warning: Cursing, 9/11 material.  
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**A/N: This is for everyone that lost someone on that day, for everyone that lost their lives, for everyone that did something to help at the cost of their own safety, and for everyone in every country who supported America.  
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><p><strong><em>~Reasons~<br>_**

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><p><em>Reasons.<em>

_I don't think there's a reason for what happened that day. There was no point of causing the deaths of innocent people, and there wasn't a reason to attack my country, or any country for that matter._

_So I have to wonder. . . Why?_

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><p>He didn't know why he had decided to be there.<p>

Was it because he was there to support New York, his _state_, his _son_?

Or was it because he needed to finally come to terms with what happened?

America, Alfred F. Jones, is stuck in his own mind as he mixes in with the crowds. New Yorkers and many other people from various states stand around him, talking loudly in the way that only large crowds can.

Beside him, Casper Jones is staring straight ahead at the list of names in front of him, brown eyes a mixture of emotions. America knows that it's hard for the state to be there, and he understands.

It's hard for him, too.

He briefly wonders where the victims would be now if they had survived. Some could have possibly been with the kids they didn't get to full raise, or meeting with their best friend's over coffee.

The youngest to die that day, Christine Lee Hanson, if he recalled correctly, had been two-years-old. She would have been in seventh grade, or maybe eighth if she turned out to be really smart. She would have been worrying about her next math test, or maybe soccer practice, and a crush on a slightly older boy.

. . . That wasn't how it worked out, though.

A hand rests heavily on his shoulder, and America turns around, his blue eyes meeting emerald green, and then scanning over the other people behind that person and seeing several different hair, eye colored, and differently clothed people.

"Are you okay, America?" England asks warily, pulling his hand away.

"I'm fine," he replies, though he knows that it isn't true.

"Ve~ What about you, New York?" Italy asks, his usual cheery attitude hidden behind a mask of concern.

"Same," the other blond replies, eyes downcast.

England frowns, knowing that the two in front of him are usually overly cheery and obnoxious, especially his former colony. Though he knows that the often goofy New Yorker is a bit of a party boy, and very outgoing.

America forces a smile, though the other countries can see that it is fake. He turns away, not wanting them to see his expressions.

He always recalls on this day their reactions to the attack on New York.

Canada, his always forgotten brother, had cried for him, wearing hats with the Canadian flag, a heart, and NY.

Germany had lit a lot of candles for him and for the fellow Germans that lost their lives that day.

China left flowers in certain places, Denmark, Finland, Germany, Japan, Norway, Poland, and even Russia doing the same.

Crowds of Italians had gathered with posters to show their support, and the American anthem had even been played at Buckingham Palace.

Even citizens in Belarus had reacted sympathetically toward America.

Many other countries had given their condolences in few words, letting their actions speak for them instead, and America and New York appreciated it.

"You've come very far over the last ten years," Germany says tonelessly, nodding politely - though America knows the words that are hidden beneath the stiff statement. Prussia grins widely from beside his taller younger brother, nodding his approval as well.

"Thanks," America replies, nodding back.

A hand once again falls on his shoulder, and America turns to see Romano, shifting awkwardly as New York turns around as well.

"Listen up, Hamburger Bastards, 'cause we're only going to say this once," he grumbles. "We're here to show our support, because it wasn't just an attack on you, dammit."

"It was an attack on humanity," Spain finishes, recalling one of the posters that had been put up in a different country.

"And if it happens again, ever, we're here for you," Canada murmurs quietly.

America smiled genuinely then. "Thanks," he murmurs.

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><p><em>Reasons.<em>

_There's one for everything, right?_

_I haven't figured out the reason for 9/11 yet. People say that good things come to those who wait._

_So what am I waiting for?_

_I haven't figured it out yet._

_But there will always be something.  
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_Reasons._

_I might have to wait a while to know what the reasons behind this event were. I'm a young country, after all, and wisdom only comes with age. I'm not as ditsy and air-headed as I appear to be, but I'll figure it out eventually.  
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_I'm America, the country of the free, the brave, and the just._

_My citizens are my reasons._

_And for that, I will fight, and I won't give up._

_And as long as I know there are other countries that will always be there for me, no matter what, I know I'm not alone. My friends, my_ family_,_ _are there, even if it's just for comfort._

_Reasons._

_There's one for everything. . ._

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><p><strong>My first Hetalia one-shot.<strong>

**Review to show your support for those that suffered from 9/11, because we know that people in other countries were affected by the loss, too.**

**~I'mAnIdiotButWhoCares**_  
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